


To You,

by VoteForNuke



Series: 2020 MGS Summer Games [2]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Birthday Party, Fluff, Gen, MGSV, mgs summer games, sweet simple and OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25981069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoteForNuke/pseuds/VoteForNuke
Summary: Eli and his first birthday party.
Series: 2020 MGS Summer Games [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884223
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10
Collections: Metal Gear Solid - Summer Games -2020





	To You,

**Author's Note:**

> For a dear friend <3

Ignoring the first knock, Eli continued to watch the shadows dance across his steel sky. His room was a lot less ‘cozy’ now. ‘Childish’ is how he defined it. He wasn’t a child, never had been. Eli was...something he didn’t want to think about. 

Another knock, more insistent than the last. The adults here lost their temper with him just as fast as the rest. He had never been spared a shred of decency, of respect–-

“Eli,” an unfamiliar voice called. Sharp, demanding. They called to him like a dog, treated him just as badly. A feral dog that needed to be confined and reducated, to forget what his teeth were for. “Eli!” The door finally swung open. One of Big Boss’ mindless drones stepped in, jaw setting when he saw that Eli hadn’t slipped out of the room again. He put his hands on his hips in a very deliberate move. “Come with me.” His voice was firm, devoid of any context.    
  
Usually, Eli could guess why he was being dragged somewhere. It was time for ‘school’, or he needed a lecture, or it was time to sit still for the doctor while she stole his blood and manhandled his throat. There were whispers of a sickness, fear for the ‘kids’. If it was a way off of this prison, Eli would gladly catch it. Not to die, though. He was never going to die. 

“Eli!” The man snapped.    
  
Lazily, Eli tilted his head towards him. “And if I resist?” 

“You’re not going to.” So confident for a–- “Big Boss is waiting for you.”    
  
Eli held his breath, forcing himself to be still. He didn’t want the idiot to see how his heart jumped at the idea of his father finally facing him. Big Boss was hardly ever on base these days, and he did everything in his power to avoid Eli. Perhaps he was scared of him...one day his number would be up, one day Eli would win, and he knew that. He was smart enough to know there were only so many chances a man could take. 

“So?” Was the only reply Eli gave as he stood from the bed. His arms crossed over his chest as he walked past the braindead and into the hall. Big Boss was waiting for him. Pretty foolish. Perhaps Miller and the cat finally had enough of him, decided to let the Boss deal with him. He’d show them what he really was, what he was truly capable of. Perhaps it was different. Big Boss had decided to face him, but not in battle. He would finally answer to Eli, to the mystery of his creation, attest to his sin. Face him, look him the eye, not take the coward’s way and turn his back on the mistakes he left alive. 

“Just up here.” The lacky gestured left once they were half-way across the platform, short of the jeep that would take them to the strut. Eli hesitated. Usually, he was taken to the Command Platform, or at least, off the Medical Platform where the children were held. Hiding is caution, Eli followed the E-rank. Big Boss did visit here, he supposed. Sometimes the chopper would touch down above the hospital, and he would disappear there for hours. Someone once told Eli that he visited wounded people there. How charitable. 

The man reached his arm back to rest on Eli’s shoulder. Eli ducked away, stepping in front of him, eyes resting dangerously on the man. All he got in answer to his challenge was a smug smile–-

_ “Happy birthday to you,”  _

Eli jumped, spinning around. 

_ “Happy birthday to you,”  _

For a moment, the sight didn’t register. Eli had to pick out the objects of the scene, one by one. Big Boss, Miller, the cat man, various toadies, all gathered around a collapsible table. A neatly set table, at that, crowned with a simple cake. 

_ “Happy birthday to you,”  _

Miller gestured to him, a minute beckon to step up. Even a smile dared pull across the man’s lips. Behind him, the man joined in with the singing. Eli flexed his hands before stepping forward in motions far too bold and wide to be genuine. He kept his jaw tight, eyes level. Carefully, the cat man lit the adorining candles. ‘ _ Happy Birthmonth, Eli!’  _ was written in a lovely shade of blue. 

_ “You look like a monkey,”  _ the crowd broke up into hushed chuckles.  _ “Aaand you look like one, too!”  _

Muted clapping and ‘woo!’s went around.    
  
“Blow out your candles, boy!” The cat man grinned, the smile easing when Eli cut him a glare. “Oh, come on…” He rolled his eyes. 

Not to be distracted, Eli blew out his candles, anyways. Another muted round of clapping, and Big Boss was passed the cake knife to do the honors. Eli watched expectantly as he cut an extra large slice from the middle, eased it onto a plate, then offered it out to him.    
  
“For the birthmonth boy.” He said, almost humored with getting away with such a thing. Eli accepted the plate despite the _ two _ transgressions, and for the first time, admired his own name.

  
  



End file.
